Pretty, Ain't She?
by thedagness
Summary: Here she was, lying in the armchair near forgotten and Negan was nowhere to be seen. You were only supposed to carry the tray of food into his room, lay it on the table and haul ass. Those were your instructions, crystal clear from the D-man. But. You had never seen the weapon this close before.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: DON'T BLAME ME, JEFFREY STARTED IT._

 _I've constructed this as a oneshot, but depending on what kind of response I get, I might write another chapter.  
_ _I really can't wait to hear from you what you think of Negan. He is really difficult to write.  
Enjoy!_

* * *

There she was. The bat, the one object he was never seen without. That, and the leather jacket. But you had never really seen him up close and personal, only at a distance. But that was enough to know what Negan was capable of doing with the bat. From what you had heard, he was pretty creative with an iron, too.

You shuddered at the thought.

But here she was, lying in the armchair near forgotten and Negan was nowhere to be seen. You were only supposed to carry the tray of food into his room, lay it on the table and haul ass. Those were your instructions, crystal clear from the D-man.

But.

You had never seen the weapon this close before. You bent down in front of the chair, one knee on the ground. The metal of the barbed wire was glistening in the light. It was so clean, so smooth. For a minute you thought you could sense a gentle hum, a buzz coming from it, which was ridiculous, but it was the truth. You had never held more respect for an object like it was a living thing, until now. You felt like, somehow, Lucille was staring right back at you.

You held out your hand towards her - warning signals went off in your head, a line was about to be crossed, too many already had been, but this was near point of no return - you hesitated, stared at the bat as if anticipating it.

A breath of air, a few seconds of pause. And then a shift in the atmosphere, like two puzzle pieces sliding together, loosened the tension in your shoulders. If that wasn't a consent from the universe, you didn't know what was.

The first touch of your fingers on the hilt of the bat felt unreal, to say the least. The fiber was smoother but harder than you expected. But that wasn't what was sending thrills down your spine. This is where Negan's hands had been, experienced and familiar to Lucille, when he had marked his dominance to the different people, new and old, all over their territory. You would be lying to yourself if you said it didn't make you excited and filled your gut with a warm, buzzing sensation.

Your chest heaved as you let your fingers slowly slide down the hilt.

And then for a moment you wondered what it felt like. With a gentle finger, you touched one of the barbed wires. Doing it this softly wouldn't hurt you and for some reason you felt like there was no hostility vibrating from the bat. It was as though it wanted to be touched.

 _Wow._

"Pretty, ain't she?"

Heart jumping out your throat, you withdrew your hand and scrambled to stand up and face the source of the voice.

He was leaning against the wall with an apple in his hand, the other hand in his pocket. The lack of light on one side of the studio threw a dramatic shade on half his face, but you could still make out the strong brow and jaw, the salt and pepper stubble, the dimples. Except now much, much closer. He looked surprisingly unbothered by your presence.

"Sir, I -"

He took a bite out of the apple, staring intently at you as he did. The sound of the juicy chomp made you flinch, but it also sent sparks through your nerves.

Lips apart, you said nothing as the only sound that filled the air was the juicy sound of Negan chewing apple.

He swallowed. You watched the ball in his throat bobble. _Good God_.

A moment of silence.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?"

Eyes widened.

You didn't answer at first, too frozen in shock to move. Finally, you gestured at the tray on the table. You hadn't even taken off the lids yet.

"Oh, I can see that," he murmured and slowly stepped closer, one hand still in pocket. He turned his head, squinting a distrustful eye at you, almost mockingly. How the fuck anyone managed to look so perfectly sexy and predatory at the same time you had no idea. "But that wasn't what I fucking asked, was it? I asked ' _what the fuck are you doing in here_ '?"

You couldn't breathe. If you still could, it certainly didn't feel like it.

"I was just, I -"

As he moved to soon take up your whole view, your voice disappeared into a hoarse exhale.

"You were just what?"

The little space between you and him was hot and static. You swallowed and stumbled backwards to gain some distance.

He followed. Soon he had backed you into something, but he stopped right in front of you, just far enough that his hips weren't touching yours (nonetheless, you were hyper aware of them) but still close enough that you had to crane your neck to look up at him.

The intensity of his eyes might as well have burned a hole through your skull. He exhaled, you felt it hot against your face.

"I'm gonna ask… - one more time."

"Lucille." The name passed your lips in a whisper and you swear you saw one corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

"Yeah," he mumbled and suddenly he had your right hand in his, raising it up for you to see. "She's an awesome lover but her love can fucking sting. Gave you a little kiss there, didn't she?"

You blinked up at him, between feeling the texture of his skin against yours and listening to what he was saying, your vision became fuzzy, but then you focused on the two of your fingers he was bending towards you and you noticed the small trail of blood running down your skin. The barbed wire. You must have cut yourself against it in your surprise of Negan's presence. How hadn't you noticed?

"I'll be honest, she can be a real fucking bitch sometimes, especially to strangers, but she _must. like. you_."

Looking at him, his face betrayed no emotion. The heat radiating from his body suddenly became stronger, the earthy musk of wood and spice filled your senses and if you hadn't already been aware of how _male_ he was, you certainly were now.

The hypnotizing dark orbs shifted from you to your fingers. "Damn shame, all out of gauze." You watched as his pupils dilated.

Then, you saw something flash through his face, it looked as though it was a decision.

And then unceremoniousley he bent forward, closing his lips around your digits and sucked.

Whatever breath had been stored in your lungs had now escaped. Soundlessly your mouth was hanging open, you couldn't look away from the vision of Negan holding your hand and sucking your fingers like a popsicle.

With every press and flick of his wet hot tongue against your skin, you felt _everything._ Signals were rushing through your body and it all found its destination, gathering into a warm pool low in your gut. Your chest heaved when you could breathe again, you tried to stand still, but when it became too much to ask for, your hips shifted towards his, searching for contact, anything to satisfy the spark inside you.

Negan must have noticed as his eyes flicked up again to look at you and he released your fingers with a wet pop. His lips were a little swollen, your fingers were glistening with both your blood and his saliva.

He swallowed. You wanted to moan.

 _Oh, fuck me_.

His lips curled delightfully into a grin over pearly white teeth, he looked amused and victorious. You wondered what he was smiling at.

.

.

And then it hit you.

.

.

Blood rushed into your face, his knowing smile only widened.

.

.

You said that out loud.

* * *

 _A/N: HAVE YOU SEEN THE 4TH EPISODE? I just finished and Je-_ sus _! Negan is so hot._

 _Anyway, please leave your reviews! As said before, I could add another chapter to see where and how it continues (wink), depending on how many people find this interesting and want to read more._

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _C_


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, hot diggity damn. Slip of tongue there, doll?" He inched closer. "And more important, are you sure? You look nervous."

You wished the wall would swallow you. He looked extremely pleased with himself, that he could induce such a reaction. He was enjoying this.

"S-sir, I didn't mean -"

" _Nope_." Curt and direct, it silenced you as if he stole your voice. He shook his head slowly at you. "Don't do that. From now on, if anything comes out of your pretty little fucking mouth and it ain't the bold naked truth, then I don't want to fucking hear it."

Your bottom lip quivered slightly, the stretch of silence and your blank mind was building pressure. How would anyone recover from this?

"Really? Nothing?" He clicked with his tongue after a moment. "Kinda disappointing."

You blinked. Fuck it.

"I have an odd talent of speaking in the wrong moment."

Negan's eyebrows rose, the corners of his mouth slowly stretched wide as he watched your face. "She _can_ speak! I was starting to worry you had broken or something."

Embarrassed, you huffed a nervous chuckle, broke eye contact and looked down at your hands.

A steady, assertive finger tilted your chin up. Your eyes met again, he was so close you could see all the details in the dark circle surrounding his pupils. Negan tilted his head, a subtle shift to curiosity. It scared you, to be honest. To be subject to this man that was so known for being unreadable and unpredictable. Needless to say, catching Negan's interest had never ended well for anyone.

The lines of his face relaxed into something more solemn. "But does she dare to bite?"

His voice was lower and suggestive, but it was laced with pensiveness, like he was mentally pulling you apart and studying all the pieces before putting them back together. You realized he was looking for any sign of uncertainty, that you were going to disappoint him after all.

It offended you. And you didn't like that it did.

"What's your name?"

Reluctantly you told him. He had once heard your name when you had sworn to work under him, but that was a long time ago and ever since then you had made sure to stay out of his way.

The corner of his lips twitched up when your name rolled over his tongue. You watched his lips move and his tongue peak out between his teeth.

Your lips parted slightly in a soundless gasp for breath. "I-ii think I should return to the kitchen, I think they need-"

"What's the matter, sweetheart?"

You hated the beat of silence and cold alarm that spread through you. "I think I should leave," you heard yourself whisper.

He nodded, but the smile on his face told you he was thinking otherwise. "You can, sweetheart, whenever you want. Matter of fact, I won't stop you. But let me ask you this first." He bent closer and mumbled in your ear. "Are you sure you really want to? Because I don't think you do."

Your eyelashes fluttered, your mind seemed to stand still and breathing was harder as he invaded your personal space. The rumble of his low inescapable voice penetrated whatever barrier you had tried to put up, it sent tremors through you. Deep inside, you knew he was right. There was a thirst inside you. It was growing. You didn't want to leave at all.

Straightening once more, he took another bite of the apple, still holding your gaze. He swallowed.

"Nope," he continued and stroked your chin with his thumb. "You and I are gonna have some fun first."

Rough fingers grabbed your shoulders and suddenly you were twirled around, your back was pressed up against a hard chest.

"See, I couldn't help but notice, you were touching something that doesn't fucking belong to you."

Your eyes went to the bat on the armchair, she was resting there. A strange feeling grew under your skin, you felt like the bat was grinning at you, maliciously and with satisfaction. She put you in this situation. His warm fingers burned through the shoulders of your withered top.

"You didn't think I'd let you go without some kind of punishment, did you?"

At the corner of your eye, you saw him place the apple on the shelf beside you.

He clicked with his tongue and then he moved your hair out of the way and his fingers where touching your throat. "You know I can't do that, darling."

You felt him lean against you, his cheek rubbed against your neck, sending shivers through you. He took a long sniff and instinctively, your chin raised, exposing more of the flesh.

"Pick her up."

"What?"

He sighed your name. "I dislike repeating myself – _pick._ her. up."

In hurry, you leaned forward as much as he would allow and as soon as your fingers touched the surface of the wood, you felt the buzz again, the confirmation that Lucille was very much aware of what was happening.

"Good, good," he whispered. "What does she feel like?"

Awkwardly you held the bat out right in front of your body. "Heavy."

The smile could be heard in his voice. "You calling my girl fat?"

Looking over your shoulder, your forehead accidentally brushed against his rough chin before your eyes met briefly. He chuckled and licked his lips before he nodded forward so as to say _try again_.

With a deep breath, you looked forward once more, ready to pull some bullshit out of your ass, because God knows what could save you now. But then two strong hands shot out around you from behind and took a firm steady grip of Lucille over your own small, meek fingers.

"Easy now," he whispered closely in your ear and backed you both into the middle of the room. "She might be rough, but she's a lady. She requires a certain finesse."

You tried to make yourself small between his arms, and he must have felt your hesitation. One of his hands let go and steadied you assertively against him with a hand on your hip.

"Focus," he mumbled, hand returning to cover yours. "Think of it like a dance, the gentleman always leads."

The whispers sent tingles through you and bless your heart, you tried to focus, but all you could think about was how good the warmth of him felt against your back, how solid and strong his body felt against yours.

He swung Lucille carefully, moving your body with his.

"Isn't she beautiful," he whispered sincerely, you heard the fascination in his voice. He swung once more, slower and this time you really looked.

Lucille buzzed against your fingers, so as to affirm the strange moment. There was something very powerful about being at the other end of her, to wield her. An energy was gathering inside you, one that you knew was not conjured by your own hormones. It swirled inside you, made your fingers tingle and your lashes flutter. You felt almost dizzy.

Negan was watching you, a corner of his mouth twitched up.

A beat.

And then at once you realized you were standing still, one of Negan's fingers was burning against your skin above the edge of your pants. You alone were holding Lucille, the weight of her brought you to this realisation.

Negan nuzzled his nose behind your ear, trying to get in your space, you knew, but it only sent pleasant but dangerous tingles down your spine.

"I'll ask again," he mumbled with a rumbling voice. "What does she feel like?"

Your chest heaved the slightest. You felt new somehow. "Alive."

"What more?"

"Thirsty."

His hands hugged your hips.

"For what?"

Before you realized your actions, you turned your face, craned your neck and brushed your lips against the corner of his mouth.

"You."


End file.
